


Let Love Bleed Red

by ivyleaguenerd



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternative Universe - Connor’s Trans, Comfort, Connor’s on T btw, Dylan’s a good boyfriend obviously, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, It’s Trans Week, M/M, Menstruation, Mentions of Past Manipulative Relationships, Mentions of Past Negative Relationships, Trans Male Character, connor is trans, implied past abusive relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyleaguenerd/pseuds/ivyleaguenerd
Summary: (Title inspired by Sleeping w/Sirens song, btw.)Connor doesn’t know it, but he’s about to wake up to the beginning of his Shark Week. Dylan does know it, and proactively assists him through the motions.Also thank you to my bud Jules for editing/reading this over for me. I love you big time for doing that for me :)
Relationships: Connor McDavid/Dylan Strome
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Let Love Bleed Red

Dylan woke up after feeling something wet on his knee. Being curious as to where it was coming from, he slid the covers off of himself, and slowly crawled out of bed as not to wake Connors and made his way right over to the bathroom. He made sure to close the bathroom door behind himself so that he didn’t bother Connor, especially if Connor didn’t need to worry about it as he was resting peacefully.

When he flicked the light on, he dropped his shorts and sat on the toilet to inspect the wet feeling on his kneecap. It seemed that there was blood on his knee, and there was no visible wound. Not even one of those ones you find in a slit of your creased skin, because Dylan didn’t even shave his legs. He furrowed his brows for a moment, trying to pull together his knowledge and previous experiences to find out why there might be blood on his knee, or at least the stain of it. 

If there was blood on his knee, maybe there was some on the bed. Maybe even on the blanket, it couldn’t just be on his knee. 

After finishing his inspection in the bathroom, Dylan made his way over to the bed again. Flicking the light off, and making sure to close the door to the little facility, before he grabbed for his phone. It slid right off the charger, and he put his flashlight on. He moved the setting of brightness on the flashlight down, his boyfriend was sleeping and there was no need to wake him if not necessary. 

Sadly, that statement turned out negative as it was necessary. 

When Dylan flipped the sheets back, he found the source of the blood and thankfully it was not his own. 

Connor had started his shark week unknowingly, and in his sleep. Not only was he unprepared, but when Dylan woke him; it’d likely hit him like a truck and it ached Dylan to even ponder that series of events for his lover. 

“Hey, babe. Babe. Con, you gotta get up baby,” Dylan whispered, and he stepped around to Connor’s side of the bed. “Con, baby,” Dylan said a little louder, still in a gentle speaking tone just above a whisper, knowing that when Connor first woke up his ears were occasionally really sensitive to noise and even simple things could be too loud. 

“Huh? Wha? Dyl, what, wha’s.. up?” Connor asked, a bit panicked because it was clear by the dim skies that it wasn’t regular morning time for them. 

“Ah, shoot,” Connor whimpered as he flipped all the way over to face the side of the bed where Dylan was standing. “Ah fuck, Dyls.” Clenching his fist around the blanket and his eyes slamming shut, Connor felt like he almost could burst out into tears right there and then.

“Do you think you might want or need any help getting to the bathroom?” Dylan suggested, and he went to the edge of the bed and gently combed through Connor’s hair with his hand. “Direct me?”

“Yes, I gotta, I can’t just let it get worse and make a bigger mess,” Connor muttered, not wanting to give their sheets a hard to scrub stain or cause any further clean up jobs for them to fuss with. 

“Can you help me up? Please? I don’t mean to bug you by taking the offer but, y’know, uh, I could use a bath maybe,” Connor suggested nervously, which was hard for Dylan to see because Connor only seemed to get nervous about things regarding body issues or struggles. Dylan could never remember a time where he had ever judged Connor for that, but he understood to an extent why Connor worried. 

“I got you, it’s alright,” Dylan whispered so softly down at his shivering boyfriend’s pained face, and slid an arm under his upper back and grabbed one of Connor’s shoulders. While the other went under his knees, Dylan lifted him up in a looser version of the bridal style and carried Connor to the bathroom with ease, gently kicking the door open using his left knee.

“I didn’t even know that it was starting anytime soon, I’m sorry,” Connor mumbled as he swept his sweaty hair off of his forehead. Connor watched Dylan’s face as they moved through the bedroom and toward the bathroom, and felt a whirlwind of things run through his mind because he couldn’t read Dylan’s facial expression. A lot of his thoughts were negative and based on assumptions he was making due to past relationships that Dylan knew about, but Connor knew that the right thing to do would be to ask and get real answers rather than overthink and overwhelm himself with suspicion. So he tried his best to formulate his thoughts into cohesive sentences without crying but the fear of actually verbalizing these thoughts was a lot harder than he’d originally thought because the answers meant a lot to him. 

“Are you okay? I know I normally keep a good handle on this and like, track it way better, but is this frustrating right now? Cause I didn’t know? Are you like, upset about the sheets or the sweatpants, because I think they’re yours and I am really sorry about this. I just— I wanna know why you look so upset because I’m sorry if you’re disappointed that I still got my cycle this month, but I am too, and I hope it’ll stop soon but I don’t know when because it’s so different for everyone, which is so dumb and honestly—“ Connor was cut off from his uncontrollable babbling of his thoughts and concerns by a gentle kiss to his forehead from Dylan’s now slightly smiling lips. The whole thing had made him want to cry, but he was going to hold off from crying because his boyfriend had just been so simplistically sweet to him, even after rambling the way he did. 

“Babe, it’s okay. I’m not mad, disappointed, upset, angry, or frustrated. I just want to help in the ways you want me to help, and be here for you in the ways you want me to. It’s really not as bad as you worry about it being, cause I’m just Dylan and you’re Connor, and we can take care of the sheets and sweats, and everything will be fine. It stinks now, cause you’re sore and a bit bloody, but y’know, it happens. Here, sit down here on the cover for a second,” Dylan instructed, and he gently maneuvered his partner down and onto the toilet seat cover so he could turn the bathtub water on. 

Even though Dylan was being so nonchalant and calming about it, Connor still felt bad. As if he was tasking Dylan, like he was being a nuisance of sorts that had to be taken care of. 

“If you don’t wanna, I can do it, I can do it. It’ll take me a little longer but I can take care of myself if you wanna go back to bed,” Connor mumbled as he stood up, or at least tried to and let out a loud groan from the cramps. He could do this on his own if he tried, if he really tried to manage through the pain he would do so Dylan could go back to bed. At the same time, he kind of didn’t want to do this alone, not at four in the morning when he was this sore. Realistically, he knew the help would be appreciated and needed, yet self consciously, he weirdly wanted to turn it away and pretend it wasn’t bad so that he could avoid keeping Dylan up. 

“Fuck, I-I don’t want you to have to help but,” Connor bit his bottom lip, and tried again while using the sink countertop. 

Dylan decided to place a gentle hand over Connor’s, rubbing his thumb back and forth over his knuckles as he waited for his boyfriend to grant him full permission to just care for him. It was difficult at times to see Connor try and avoid asking for help, especially because Dylan was more than willing to help him and he understood that sometimes people just needed help. Connor liked to be independent, and Dylan let him be, but with Connor in pain and it being so late, Dylan was a little more insistent. 

“Babe, it’s okay. Please sit and take a deep breath. I’m here to help, so if you want me to help, let me know now. It’s okay if you do, and I’m totally okay with helping you, baby.” Concerned, the other expressed how ridiculously possible it was that this could become some sort of dangerous mess of a situation. “I don’t desire a fatality at 4 in the morning. Not my forte.” Dylan added, for his own giggling purpose. 

“I’m sorry I just, I don’t mean to overwhelm you with this sort of stuff, and it’s so stupid and I would have thought by now it wouldn’t be this bad, and it’s been ten whole months.” Connor just had to reiterate his guilt that came with the situation at hand, out of fear that Dylan wasn’t going to fully understand why it upset him so much. Maybe Dylan wasn’t seeing the side that regarded how Connor had been taking testosterone for ten months and couldn’t possibly be still having cramps this intense.

“I know you said you’re not bothered by this but, are you sure? Can you like, promise me that if it ever does bother you, you’ll tell me? I know it’s sorta dumb but, please?” Connor knew that any terrors he had regarding Dylan possibly being upset and keeping it from him were only built on previous experiences with other partners. Yet he had to briefly remind himself that this was Dylan, not a previous partner. He also had to remind himself that it was highly unlikely that Dylan would lie to him, yet it still was a fear for Connor due to his previous experiences within past relationships. Many of his previous relationships were before he started testosterone, so they were dealing with full blown symptoms back when Connor could only take birth control for his acne and period pain or rough flow issues. Which obviously made it a lot more emotionally stressful and tough for Connor because birth control in his mind was a feminine product that made him feel ashamed to be taking it, as if it contradicted his entire identity or worth of his identity. 

“Connor, baby, I promise. I still love all of you, and you absolutely never bother me. It isn’t a problem or issue to me, it just happens unfortunately, but I still don’t see it as having to deal with you. I see these moments as like, just being here and being able to help you and to get to be a real supportive person for you. Which are all good things; so yes, I promise, it’s okay and I’m not bothered one bit. Alright, baby?” Dylan assured, and he rubbed his thumb in gentle circles on Connor’s shoulder and he stared into his eyes. Some eye contact would always do the trick of locking in the depths and meaning behind Dylan’s honest words. 

“Alright, alright. Thank you, for… y’know, saying that. It does help, it means a lot, actually. So yeah, you can help, and thank you for being so nice and helping. Really, I mean it.” Connor sounded like a kid in the sense that allowing help was easier said than done, but he knew deep down that he did want the help and he totally adored the way Dylan was so willing to help. So for now, he was allowing himself to bask in the affectionate ways Dylan would care for him. Just for tonight. 

“I love you, alright? Take a deep breath, you’ll be alright, eh. I got you, I got you,” Dylan continued to assure him while they waited for the tub to fill a bit. He placed Connor’s hands on his own shoulders, and prepared to lead Connor into a standing position from off of the toilet seat cover. 

“You can hold onto my shoulders, baby.” Doing as told, Connor nodded, and let Dylan work his magic. Which meant that Dylan gently and patiently led Connor to the bath where he was able to sit himself on the edge of the tub and test the water with a hand before planning on stripping to get in. 

“Is it warm enough? Is it a comfortable temperature for ya?” Dylan asked, standing in front of where Connor’s feet were placed on the carpet of the bathroom floor. He waited for Connor to make sure the water was good, and that he was comfortable with getting into the bath. 

“It’s perfect, yeah. Thank you so much, again, really, Dylan, I mean it” Connor repeated, just hoping Dylan knew how important he was to any of Connor’s progress in this trying time of around four in the morning. He slid his own shirt off, and stood back up to get his sweatpants off.

“I can uh, if you want, I can lift you right back up and into the tub. Then, if you don’t mind, I’m probably going to clean myself up, really quickly.” Dylan offered, before explaining that he did still have some of the blood on his kneecap. He waited for Connor’s confirmation in the form of a nod before he helped slide the rest of the fabric off of Connor’s ankles to deposit the sweats into the sink for now. He gave Connor’s back a gentle pat to reassure him that everything was a-okay.

“Oh, please? If that’s really okay with you? And really Dyls, again, I’m really really sorry about your sweatpants, I didn’t know or even get the warning signs, I-“ Connor was reminded by the way Dylan’s sweatpants slid off his legs that he should be beyond embarrassed as well as ashamed for the rookie mistake. He felt as though once again, he should have this period cycle thing down and know when it was coming down to the practical minute. 

“Connor, it’s okay, babe. It really is. I have like, tons of other sweats. It really is totally fine, I know it seems bad but it’ll probably wash out and be totally fine. So now, how about you come and wrap your arms around my shoulders?” Dylan tapped the back of Connor’s hands and gently slid them around his back of his own neck. “Use your hands to hold onto me, and I’ll just lift you, okay?” He instructed further, and maneuvered his boyfriend down into the tub. 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Dylan asked just to double check that everything was okay. 

“Okay, thank you again, and I really do love you,” Connor said sweetly, and honestly. He wanted to make sure it sounded as genuinely as he meant it, and felt it. So he glanced up at Dylan, adding a weak smile to further exemplify his gratitude to his lovely boyfriend, who returned the small smirk with a bright smile. Things were sliding back into place, a little less panicked and guilt filled for sure. 

“Anything for you, because of all the amazing things you do for me.” Dylan stepped back and out of the bathroom. He went over to the closet where he grabbed a new pair of sweatpants from a drawer in the dresser they shared, a clean pair of underwear for Connor, a new shirt that hadn’t been sweat soaked. He stepped back into the bathroom with the little stack of clothes, placed them on top of the toilet seat cover. After, he stepped out again to get a dark colored towel and placed that on top of the clothes so that Connor wouldn’t worry about bleeding on the towel or staining it when he dried himself off. 

Connor knew that at the end of the day, everything was going to be okay. It was always okay, between them. There was no need to have or harp on any other stress. Of course Dylan wasn’t mad at Connor because he never could be, especially not for things that were out of his control. Like simple body functions that nagged his boyfriend like a period cycle. 

Sooner or later, Connor knew that the testosterone would halt his period, and looked forward to that validating day. Surely they’d have to have some champagne about it or something to celebrate, a final farewell to all these types of pained memories of his shark week experiences. Cheers to never having to wear a pad or tampon while in hockey gear, or spending twenty minutes in the bathroom because of how hard it was to wrestle out of the bottom half of his gear just to change a stupid pad. Cheers to never having to bear a forced smile over the reckless and ruthless pains Connor felt when suffering his cycle. Cheers to another extremely validating milestone along his transition and journey into the brave and strong man he was; Connor McDavid, the man Dylan would know and love through all of the stages of his journey. 

Honestly, Dylan was absolutely looking forward to their future. They’d get through tonight and the bath, change the sheets before laying down for a couple more hours of sleep. He’d kiss Connor and remind him that he loved him, because he’d always love Connor no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> hey it’s trans week it’s trans remembrance week and tbh i love my trans homies so mf much. i wrote this to validate my trans homies, to respect them and their struggles and feelings, to help voice some of those struggles with the usage of a kind and supportive partner in the mix. and like i honestly can’t remember a time when i wasn’t loving and respecting my trans homies, and that’s on my yeezys. 
> 
> btw! although i myself am not trans nor do i identify, i made sure this was appropriate and valid as i did ‘consult’ a pal to read over it & help me w/ this so thank u jules :)
> 
> so anyways, hope you enjoy this little short. i love all my trans homies, i support em and i’m here for all of my trans homies. big smooch to ya’ll, you’re amazing and rock on pls!


End file.
